MARCH, APRIL, AND MAY.

Otago Witness, Issue 3197, 23 June 1915, Page 77

MARCH, APRIL, AND MAY.

By B. Paul Neuman;

(Copyright.) I. “Now then, girls,” said Mr Lestrange briskly as he sot up from the breakfast table, “ I've told Arnold to have the car round by one sharp, and to call for mo at the office. The train comes in at one-fifteen, so that we can be back in time for lunch.” “Whom do you want to go?” asked Sybil, who was sitting with the tray in front of her. Her father paused a moment as he folded his napkin carefully. Then ho said : You! It is quite time you were settled, and this is a chance in a thousand. Young Dovey—what a name, isn’t it?—will have all his father’s money, and the old chap must have made tons by his couplings. They’re used all over the world. He was just a rough-and-ready workman, but he invented half a dozetl things before he struck oil with his coupling. And now that he’s made his pile, he means his hoy to spend it. And, by good luck, he’s fixed on mo as a sort of guardian for him.” “ Yon knew the old man, then, father?” asked Christine, the youngest, an extremely pretty girl, fair-haired and smiling.

“Yes; lie got into trouble over a charge of stealing. There was really nothing In. it; but things looked ugly at first-. I got him off, and he seems to have an unusual kind of memory. He’s sent me over a number of presents, and now he sends his young Hopeful. You had better come, Sybil.” Sybil was a tall, fine girl, inches above Christine, and as dark as she was fair. She looked more than her five years older —her face had a harder, less amiable expression. She shook her .head. “ No, thank you! I’m not fond of cubs, and they don’t take to me. If it had been the old inventor now-— —” She paused, and her father answered her in his cold voice ond clear-cut words. “ Very well. You can do as you please. You’re very useful at home, and I’m sure I should miss you. But you ought to be married, and, if your mother had lived, you would have been—-long ago. You are the eldest, and you ought to have the first chance. If you choose not to take it, that’s your affair. If you’re obstinate, Eileen had better come.” “And, poor little Cinderella, go upstairs and sit In the nursery,” said Christine with a delightful pout. Eileen came between her sisters in height. Her hair was a pretty chestnutbrown. Her features were not so regular as Christine’s nor so striking as Sybil’s. Some people colled her face “ expressive,” others “interesting,” almost everyone found it attractive. It varied with her moods, and they were as uncertain as an April day. “ March, April, and May,” Mr Lestrange sometimes called his daughters—a neat bit of nomenclature that really did him credit. Just now the sun was shining. “ If Sybil won’t come, Christine and I will put on our war-paint. We ought always to hunt together. If I’m in. a good temper she lies low; if anything upsets me, she takes out her smiles.” Mr Lestrange nodded approvingly. “I’m not afraid for you two,” he said, looking significantly at Sybil, who smiled a little disdainful smile. “ You think I’m too stupid to look after myself,” she said. “No, my dear,” he answered. “I think you’re too clever. It’s a terrible hand! cap.” 11. When, the car left Manstone, as Mr Lestrange’s big, showy house was named, Eileen and Chrissie were its occupants. Svbil went to the big greenhouse which opened out of the drawing room, and busied herself with the flowers which were her passion. She was soon in difficulties with one of the windows, which would not open. It seemed to be hardly more than a minute or two wdxen Davies, the parlourmaid, came through the drawing room. “ A gentleman to see master,” she said, holding out a card on which Sybil read — “Mr Clarence Dovey.” As she glanced into the room a young man came to the window and stood smiling at her in the most friendly way. He was big, tall and broad, but decidedly plain, she thought, though the smile was pleasant. As the servant retreated im stepped into tha

greenhcruse. “ I can see what the trouble is,” lie said, eacerly. “ Before we’vo been introduced?” she asked, smiling, for the keen expression on his face pleased her. The keenness vanished, and awkwardness took its place. “ I beg your pardon,” he stammered. “ I forgot—l thought you would know my —that I. was expected, I mean.” “So yon are,” she said. “My father and my sisters have gone to meet you at the station. They thought you would come by the one-fifteen.” “I meant to, but I found I could catch the one before, so I’ve been having a look round. I am sorry, though, that they’ve put themselves to all that trouble. Perhaps I’d better go and meet them.” “ Xo,” she answered, “you might miss them. 1 couldn’t tell you exactly which way they’ll come back. Did you leave your bag in the cloak room?” “ I jiaven’t brought a bag,” he answered with a shade of embarrassment that did not escape ben sharp eyes. “ I’m going back to-night.” “ Are you!” she exclaimed in, great surprise. “ I thought you were coining for a week at any rate,”

Well”—he hesitated, —“ I thought so, too; but I’ve been thinking, and I’ve changed my mind. I feel a bit of an impostor.” ’ . . ... “ You don’t look it,” she answered with great frankness. The more she looked at him the more favourably was she impressed. . “It’s this way,” he said: xour father thinks that mine is rolling m ’money. So he was till a month or two back. He’s the most wonderful man in the world for inventing; but when it comes to business, he’s like a baby. He s worse than a baby, because what he wants to do he will do, and no one can stop him. And a parcel of land-sharks have got hold of him and made him throw nte money down some rotten mines. So, instead of coining over here to spend his money, I’ve got to make some of my own.” ~ “ You don’t look very cast-down. “I’m not,” he said, “and that’s a fact. But other people may be,” he added significantly. j Just then Mr Lestrange, Eileen, and Chrissie appeared on the scene. 111. Nothing was sa;d about Clarence s staying or going till lunch, was nearly over. Mr LeArange exerted himself to the utmost and talked quite brilliantly, asking, moreover, a number of questions evidently designed to draw the young man out. He was honestly - "pleased with the visitor, and made up his ,mind more decisively ecen than before, that one of the girls should have him. The little mishap at the station had not put him out in the least. Of his three daughters Sybil was his ' favourite, because she was the cleverest, and he was pleased that, against her own will, she should have had the first chance, and doubly pleased to see that she had made such good use of it. Instead, she made no attempt to conceal her friendliness toward the young man. The thought of the disclosure that was to come added a spice of adventure to this break in the monotony of their humdrum life. Chrissie, ■who sat” next to Clarence, was all smiles and prettiness, while Eileen across the table also exerted herself to be pleasant. A delightful family, young man thought them, and for the first time felt inclined to keep back the disclosure. Then he looked at Sybil, and remembered that he had already burned his boats. > “We’ve got a decent little theatre down here,” said Mr Lestrange towards the end of the meal. “They’re doing ‘His House in Order,’ and a very good cast, I’m told, they have. You’d better take the girls to-night.” “I’m afraid I shan’t be here,” answered Clarence, squaring his shoulders. “Not here!” exclaimed Mr Lestrange, and Sybil caught her breath with a little gasp. “Nonsense! We’re not going to let you off under a week at the shortest. “I think you will when you’ve heard my news,” answered Clarence simply. “I’ve got to earn my living. Poor old dad has lost all his pile.” “Yes, and the Germans have annexed Australia,” said Mr Lestrange; but he was very keen-eyed, and something in the expression of his visitor’s face dismayed him. “I’m not joking,” Clarence replied. “It’s the plain truth. He get in with the speculating crowd, and they’ve cleared him out. He isn’t as young as he was, you know, and it’s my turn to begin earning instead of spending.” Svbil had feared an explosion, and both Eileen and Chrissie looked very uncomfortable ; but Mr Lestrange had, at any rate, the manners of a gentleman. He only said : “Well, I’m very sorry to hear it. It’s hard enough to make a fortune, but to make it and lose it is frightfully bad luck. Come, now, and have a smoke in my den. I have to go back to the office in about 20 minutes, and I want to hear about your father.” In less than the twenty minutes they - ' came into the drawing room. Eileen and Chrissie had gone to their tennis club, Chrissie smiling and happv, Eileen in what her younger sister called “a touchy temper.” Sybil w T as busy in the greenhouse. “Mr Dovey thinks he must go back by the three-thirty,” said her father, and she noticed that he had dropped the “‘Clarence” with which he had greeted the son of “my old friend.” His voice, too. was cold and indifferent. “Oh, must you really go as soon as that?” she exclaimed, and his face lit up with pleasure at the warmth of her tone. “Yes,” he answered, hut not, she fancied, with the note of finality. This was supplied bv Mr Lestrange. “Women don’t understand the importance of time,” he remarked as he said good-bye to the young man. “I never press a man when he tells me he’s got to catch a train. You ought to allow a good quarter of an hour, remember.” , ' “D'smheed ” said Clarence the moment thev were left alone. “P’s hateful!” she cried; “but you’ll make good again. T know you will.” “Ah.” he said, “if I make a hit, will you congratulate me?” “Yes, with all mv heart,” she answered, and they shook hands Upon it. IV. Just about three years after this brief visit a letter arrived from Clarence Dovey for ,ui Lestrange. “May I call upon yon again?” it said. “This time it is with reference to a matter of business.” “I know what that means,” snapped 'out the solicitor. “When does he ; say? Thursday—that’s the clay after to-morrow. Write at once. Svbil, and tell him we ehall all be away.” And Sybil wrote:

“ As my father’s, secretary, I am to say, ‘ Ws shall ell be .nvay on TfctwsOn my own account, I add, 'or till you have' made a hit.’ J T hope you will scon.” On Thursday when Mr Lestrange got

back to his office after lunch he found a big car waiting outside. “A gentleman in your room, sir, waiting to ue you,” said Wickson, the junior clerk. “Who is it?” “He didn't give his name. He said you'd understand.” In his room the lawyer found Clarence Dovey looking uncommonly well and evidently prosperous. For once Mr Lestrange was fairly taken aback. The car, the young man’s appearance, and the message sent through Sybil—it was a very awkward situation. Clarence, however, seemed quite friendly, and not very much surprised . “ Well,” he exclaimed, as he held out his hand, “ this is luck indeed. I thought I should find a managing clerk, and I’ve actually caught you.” Mr Lestrange didn’t like the word “caught,” but he thought it best to be civil.

“ We havn’t gone, after all —a sudden death in the family. What is it you wanted my managing clerk to do for you ?” “Why,” answered Clarence, “I’ve been lucky. I’ve sold my new gun-carriage to the Government. We’ve just finished the trials at Fenton, and Fve been staying there with Colonel Davinton; that’s his car outside. Here’s the contract, and I want it sent to counsel —it’s rather a big thing, you see.” And he threw a pale blue document on to the table.

“Do you mean that the Government have bought a gun-carriage of your own invention !” Clarence nodded. - “ Yes,” he said. “ vVon’t dad be bucked over it? He had a hand in it, of course. By the way, things aren’t as bad with him as they threatened to be. One of the mines looks like turning up trumps, after all.”

Mr Lestrange glanced through the contract, and then read it more carefully. Then he looked up and spoke in a very cordial v ie. “ I’ll send this to our London agents at once and tell them to take it to Crabbe. He’s about the best man at the bar for this sort of thing. I congratulate you heartily, my dear Clarence. You’!! dine with us, of course.” “I’m afraid I can’t. I’ve got Davinton’s car. I must take that back.” “Not a bit of it. You write him a note. Tell him you’ve been claimed for dinner by some old friends. Then "O up to Manstone in the car, and Arnold can drive it over to Fenton and get back by train. Come, you mustn’t say no. Sybil will never forgive me if I let you go. She has unlimited faith in you —as an inventor.” Clarence’s cheek flushed. “She’s very generous,” he said. “T should like to fee her again.” “So you shall. Write the note and take it with you to Manstone, and give it to Arnold. I’ll ’phone to Sybil now.” Three hours later Mr Lestrange let himself in at the hall door of Manstone. Eileen came running across the hall to meet him, her face wreathed in smiles. “Hullo, April!” he said. “The sun is out to-day.” She pointed archly to the drawing room. “They’re in there,” she whispered. “ They’Ve settled everything between them; I’m sure they have. He is a darling. I knew from the first that there was a heap of good in him. But hs’u improved out of all knowledffr. 1 ' “Yes, he has,” said Mr Lestrange, “and his father’s improving, too.” The drawing room door opened, and Sybil and Clarence appeared. She looked radiant as May, but April glistened in ner eyes. “I’ve warned him,” she said, when their secret had been told, “ that you call me March—the bleak and bitter month.’ 1 ' “ And I’ve told her,” he answered, “that where Income from March stands for warmth and light and beauty, for rich harvests and ripene'd fruit. It’s just the very name for her.”